


Enveloped

by derekstilinski



Category: The Maze Runner (2014), The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Caretaking, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Manhandling, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 14:43:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2551367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/derekstilinski/pseuds/derekstilinski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt I gave to myself: "Minho and Thomas love on Newt".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enveloped

**Author's Note:**

> I usually don't write smut as my first piece into a fandom, but I have a good feeling about this one.

"No! Hey, you shuck-faces! Lay off, will you?" Newt grabs for his books again as they're taken away, managing to circle his fingers around Minho's wrist.

Minho quickly switches the book to his other hand, tossing it away carelessly in favor of following Newt's hold on him, crawling on the bed, "You're working too hard, and not in the good way. I'm gonna do something about it."

"I have to study. If Jorge gets a higher score than me, he'll rub it in my face." Newt argues, already hearing the 'Oh, three points short? I'd recommend you study up, _muchacho_ '. Newt squirms up as Minho tries hauling him back to lay down.

Thomas is careful with the three books he's taken from Newt, setting them on the coffee table in a neat little stack, "You've read two of these books cover to cover."

"It's called being responsible, Tommy." Newt says as Minho gives up on trying to lay him down. Thomas comes around and sits on the bed, pressing his chest to Newt's back.

"It's call overworking." Thomas tucks his chin over Newt's shoulder, presses his nose to Newt's jaw, "You haven't eaten today, you're pale, tired."

Minho puts himself in Newt's lap, "You've been way too responsible about school."

Thomas guides Newt to lean back against him, and he does, looking up at Minho, "Well..."

"Well, what?" Minho cuts in, slowly undoing the buttons on Newt's shirt.

"I... I just want..." Newt follows Mihno's fingers with his eyes, hands inching to Minho's knees, then slowly up to his thighs.

"What do you want?" Thomas asks, his hands almost mimicking Newt's, except they pull at Minho, pressing him firmly against Newt's pelvis.

Newt gives a choked-off groan, hands going for Minho's hips, "A-A good grade."

They both give heavy sighs, and Minho pushes the shirt off him, careful of the old scar etched over the front of his shoulder, "You're not being very romantic, Newt. Step it up a little, would ya?"

"Minho, you little--" Minho cuts him off again, this time with a wet kiss. Newt groans, feels Minho's hands grip possessively at his face, tilt his chin up just a little to kiss him deeper. Thomas' hands pull at the button and zipper of Minho's jeans, taking Newt by the wrist and shoving his hand in.

Minho's hips jerk when Newt's hand closes around his dick, straining against his boxer-briefs. He listens to Minho groan and feels him grind against his hand, while Thomas starts leaving kisses over his shoulders. Newt closes his teeth over Minho's bottom lip, tugs harshly and sucks before letting go. Minho glares at him for all of three seconds before Newt soothes it with his tongue.

Thomas coos over his shoulder, "Love birds."

"You're not funny, Tommy." Newt leans his head and kisses Thomas a little more sweetly, pulling back when he feels Minho's weight move off him, "Wait, no."

"Slim it, I'm not leaving you." Minho promises, slipping his jeans off. Thomas leans away from Newt to tug his shirt over his head, then moves back in close, letting Newt's warm seep into his skin.

Thomas presses slow kisses to Newt's neck, and Newt watches Minho crawl back onto the bed after his shirt's gone, and start in on his belt. Newt arches up and Thomas' hands slip under him, pushing at his jeans while Minho pulls. Minho tosses them aside, crawls up and mouths just above Newt's waistband, "Thomas."

Thomas moves away and Newt can't see where he's going, too busy watching Minho, threading his fingers through his hair. Minho grins at him, kissing right of his bellybutton, "Too goddamn skinny."

Newt tugs lightly at Minho's hair, chuckling when it earns him teeth, "Shut up. And if you say 'make me', I will. Your mouth's going to get you in trouble, Minho."

"Ah, that's okay," Minho says, hands working Newt's boxers down slowly, looking up past him for a moment, "Usually when I get in trouble with you, it's not exactly punishment that happens next."

"Is that why you're such a little shit all the time?" Newt asks, and feels Thomas slide back in behind him.

Minho rids him of his underwear before hastily pushing his own down his legs, "Maybe. Why, are you lookin' to change how you deal with me?"

Minho slides back into his lap, quickly grabbing a condom from Thomas. Newt groans, hips twitching as Minho rolls it on him, pressing fevered kisses to his jaw. Newt tilts his chin back for him, "Jesus, Minho."

"This is so much better than studying." Thomas says, wrapping his fingers around Minho's cock. The whine that comes out of Minho's mouth makes Newt shudder.

"Fuck, Thomas." Minho's fingers shake as he tries to lube up Newt's cock. Thomas rubs his thumb over the slit and Minho's hips jolt forward, punched-out groan leaving him, "Ah, fuck it."

Newt gasps loudly, Minho ungracefully pouring lube over his dick, giving a few tight pumps before trying to shakily position himself. Thomas leans forward when Minho does, meeting him in a rushed kiss. Newt lays his head on Thomas' shoulder, hand going to help guide himself in, eyes squeezing shut as Minho takes him in. Both Thomas and Newt get their hands on Minho, touching him in all the ways he likes; Newt's lips to his neck, Thomas' hand holding his chin while they kiss, Newt rubbing circles into his sides and lower back. Minho fully seats himself with a little breathless huff, meets Thomas' tongue with his own again before pulling back, laying his head on Newt's shoulder.

Thomas runs his fingers through Minho's hair, "You look hot."

"I know." Minho hums, grin peeking through, shifting his hips just so. Newt arches up then catches himself, breathing hot against Minho's ear.

"You planned this." Newt says, feeling heat everywhere; pressed to his back, against his front, around his cock. Minho laughs against his shoulder, and they both groan.

"Thomas had me in the bathroom for fifteen minutes, right up against the sink," He kisses Newt's bony shoulder, glides his lips wet up over the side of his neck, "How many did we get this time?"

"Almost four," Thomas tells him, fingers going around Minho's cock again, moving slowly, "Got him ready for you, Newt. He wanted to be ready, and you know he doesn't have that much patience when he wants you."

Newt goes to say something, he's not even sure what, when Minho leans up and kisses him, slow and breathy and dirty. When they pull away they settle their foreheads together, breath mingling between them. Minho pushes Thomas' hand away, taking a deep breath, "I wanna move."

Newt presses his hands to Minho's hips, which Minho pushes away as well. He puts his hands on Newt's shoulders, and Thomas takes one of his hands, kissing his knuckles. Minho rolls his hips, breath hitching and he tenses up for a fraction of a second, before Newt's hands are on his thighs, soothing him. He smiles, presses a lingering kiss to Newt's mouth, and then Thomas' as he gets more confident with moving. He pulls his hips up, presses back down, lets Newt's hands sneak back up and guide him.

He starts giving orders, for Newt to move faster, for Thomas to kiss him, to kiss Newt, to touch himself. He starts getting louder when Newt bites his neck, begs for another, grinds himself in Newt's lap. Newt tries to meet him with every thrust, and Minho doesn't miss a beat when he can't. Minho kisses Thomas and then immediately turns him to Newt, watches as he pumps himself, getting desperate to come.

Thomas pulls himself up, moving to Minho's side. Newt groans, seeing his usually sweet Thomas sloppy and fumbling over himself. Thomas has his jeans and boxer-briefs around his thighs, stumbling on his knees to grab Minho by the back of the neck and kiss him, while his other hand moves over his cock. Minho pants harshly as he tries to keep kissing Thomas, and tries to keep his pace with Newt. Minho digs his fingers into Newt's forearm, giving a surprised shout when Newt shifts just the right amount, and grinds down hard to keep Newt where he wants him.

Newt shudders, leans up and presses sloppy kisses to Minho's neck and chest, "Come on now, Minho. Come on, come on."

Minho presses his head down, hides his face in Newt's shoulder when he comes, his knuckles bumping Newt's stomach as he rides it out for all it's worth. He feels Newt shake against him, hears the sharp inhale of air that means he's coming, too. When he looks up, Newt has a grip on Thomas' jaw, kissing him, giving little encouraging "Come on, Tommy"s when they part only an inch. Minho nuzzles against Newt's neck and rubs his fingers up the mess he's made of Newt's stomach, sneaks that hand over to deftly slip two fingers over Thomas' hole, just a touch. Thomas yelps and grabs Minho's thigh for leverage, so perfectly that Newt's hand can replace his, bring him off loud and quick like only Newt knows how.

Thomas shudders and collapses into Newt after, and Newt just lets the three of them fall back against the comforter. They're silent while they catch their breath, and as soon as Newt does, he says, "You fuckers."

Minho laughs, ending in a gasp as he lifts himself up off Newt's softening cock. Thomas smiles and presses a kiss to Newt's temple, laughs when he hears his stomach rumble, "Love you, too. What do you want for lunch?"

Minho slips the condom off him, ties it up and presses a kiss to his thigh, "I bet he didn't even know it was afternoon. Slap him with some tea and pancakes, he'll live."

Newt closes his eyes and sighs, grinning up at the ceiling, "That'll be lovely, thanks."

Thomas turns from under his arm and Minho's weight dips down on his other side. Thomas and Minho land obnoxious pressing kisses on both of Newt's cheeks. He grabs them both before they can get away, gives them each a more genuine kiss, "Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah. We can't just let you starve." Is Minho's romantic reply. Newt knows what he means.


End file.
